Take the Lead
by The Lovely Cynic
Summary: The Dog inside of Haine is constantly crying out for attention, but he is never satisfied.... //BadouHaine, yaoi//


**Take the Lead**

**Author's Notes: **Another DOGS fic! And this time with... non-descriptive smut?! Indeed! This is basically just brain leakage that came out on paper. XD

---

The blood in his veins was not his own. Or so it would seem. It scorched and seared the thin tissue like a corrosive acid, tearing at his flesh, making his lungs burn with every breath. It felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out with unseen claws and teeth, ripping at his skin, just under the surface. His spine—that unnatural, oh-so-metal spine—became rigid and stiff and so, so cold. The arteries and capillaries around the collar would pulsate and twitch painfully, telling him to let go, just do it, _go, Haine, go._

An animalistic sound resounded in his ears; a voice that was not his own called out to him.

_Let me take over._

The Dog was coming. He could feel him secreting through every pore in his body to take it over. He tried to keep calm. He couldn't, he couldn't, he _couldn't_. He couldn't regain consciousness again to be covered in blood, varying slightly in shade from every person that _thing _had slaughtered. He couldn't be left in the shower to pick excess pieces of cloth and flesh off of himself, washing off blood until the water ran thick and red—always red—down the drain.

He had to find control.

_Just let go_.

_Let me do this._

_You know you can't fight me._

Over and over and over, it hissed into his brain, murmuring tempting phrases and offering sweet release. Release of stress—trying to keep the Dog on a chain was difficult. Wouldn't it be nice to _just let go?_

_Stop fighting._

_I'll take care of this._

He couldn't. He couldn't. Not again.... He tasted blood and steel—or was it only blood?—on the tip of his tongue. His collar and spine were starting to ache and throb harder, hurting him, immobilizing him....

Steel. Copper. Lead. The story of his fucking life.

---

"Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_," Haine hissed. Blood clung to the ends of his hair, streaking the white with deep burgundy. His clothes were tattered and torn and he almost felt bad for giving Nill so much extra work to do.

He reached into a bullet wound with a pair of tweezers, muscles protesting and tensing, pulling out yet another slug from himself. He dropped it on the ground, shuddering as he felt his flesh starting to work to heal it. It tingled and stung and soothed at the same time. The individual vertebrae in his metal spine locked together for split second, jerking him upright.

"Fuck."

He looked around his chest—the perfect, flawless goddamn _monstrosity_—and found yet another bullet wound. He reached to jam the tweezers in there again, dug around until he felt metal on metal.

"You're going to hurt yourself doing that, y'know."

A familiar voice from the doorway. The albino glanced up to find his redheaded partner leaning casually against the doorframe, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. Haine let out a bitter laugh. "I wish."

Pull, tug. Flesh dangling on metal extracted. Spine locks. Skin tingles, burns. Repeat.

"The fuck, Haine. You know, most people would kill to be able to heal like you."

"I'd rather be normal."

Badou let out an annoyed sigh and clomped over the snow-haired man. "Let me do it, idiot. You're going to tear half your fucking skin off with the bullet," he grumbled. He yanked the tweezers out of pale, cold, should-be-dead fingers.

The redhead carefully pulled out more slugs from Haine's body. _Clang_. _Clang, clang, clang._

"That's all of'em."

The albino looked back and stared at Badou with those oh-so-red eyes, darkened and cloudy. "Thanks."

They didn't look away from each other. Rubies met emerald in a silent gaze. Haine couldn't help but feel thankful that he didn't find anything even related to pity in Badou's eyes. There was some sort of hidden sorrow, perhaps, but that had nothing to do with him. That was Badou's deep, dark secrets, locked away and stored for God-knows-how long and that was none of Haine's fucking business.

"No problem," Badou murmured, standing up and walking out after that.

---

When Haine first kissed Badou, neither of them were surprised. The albino couldn't have explained later why exactly he did it, but when he did, he didn't want to stop. Lips met lips, turned into teeth meeting tongues and gums and more teeth and tongues and gums. Blood was drawn; copper and lead and steel and humanity meeting in one tangible flavour that melted on the taste buds and slid like velvet down the throat.

Haine wanted it. He wanted it so fucking badly that it _hurt_. He wanted Badou's hands on his skin, brushing over spots that should be puckered and paled with scars and blemishes. He wanted Badou's lips on his face, throat, chest... he wanted to _feel _him.

The albino fell back against the wall, breathing erratically as he was undressed, goosebumps pricking at the surface of his flesh. He moaned when he was taken a hold of and stroked, Badou's fingers suddenly _inside _of him and thrusting, thrusting, thrusting and _oh god. _So good, too good, so fucking _good_.

"Badou...."

The redhead was still almost fully dressed, a smirk adorning his thin face. Haine leaned his head forward and took one strap of Badou's eye patch between his teeth, tugging it off. He needed to see that scar, that sign or humanity. He needed it and he think Badou understood because he didn't complain.

He hardly said a word, even as he extracted himself from his pants and started goddamn well _jerking _at himself until he felt ready to hoist Haine's legs up and apart and push into him.

The albino liked the pain—it hurt, but it fucking reminded him that he was there being pounded into the wall, being stroked by gun-and-city-calloused hands, that he was hearing his own name being moaned and whispered into his ear....

He was almost surprised when he came. His eyes flew open and a soft sound escaped him, entire body tensing and trembling at the weight of his orgasm. He heard Badou cry out moments later and still himself, still buried inside of Haine.

They stayed like that for a few long moments, panting and sweating and clinging to each other like a lifeline. The redhead pulled out eventually, but still didn't put Haine down. He kept on holding him close—perhaps a little too close....

The albino felt at ease. He felt boneless and heavy but so, so good. It was an amazing thing, though... his spine was loose and unwound, his collar felt lighter than air and the Dog seemed far too sated to comment on anything.

"....Thanks, Eye Patch."

Badou laughed. "Anytime, White Hair."


End file.
